


Of These Chains

by ukiinas



Category: Pandora Hearts, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pandora Hearts, Angst, ChildOfMisfortune!Katsuki, Freeform, Glen!Izuku, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological, Swearing, Warnings May Change, alternate universe - canon parallel, character roles will be explained along the way, everything is the same except Katsuki is the tragic hero, minimal spoilers for Pandora Hearts, no prior knowledge needed for Pandora Hearts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9291665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukiinas/pseuds/ukiinas
Summary: With aspiration comes power, and with power, sacrifice. Such was the fate of a Child Of Misfortune. He would never be able to reveal the secret to him, the ugly truth that was so easy to say and yet the words always caught in his throat: he was destined to die.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Everything is set in the BnHA universe but with Pandora Hearts elements thrown in, mostly notably that Izuku is the successor for the next Glen, and Katsuki is the immediate Child Of Misfortune.

_Why is he still here?_

A cold, sucking darkness enveloped Katsuki, embracing him tightly as he watched silently, limbs frozen and jaw slanted. Voices echoed off invisible walls and grated his eardrums as they sneered at him one by one, jeering sinisterly as their shapeless hands caressed the curve of his face, leaving icy trails down his side, scorching him with the fire of a thousand suns. They dragged him deeper down into the depths of his misery, the thick blackness so dark that no light reflected off it, strangling him and suffocating him as they reminded him that none of this was worth it.

_We should get rid of him already._

Katsuki wanted to scream, retaliate, escape, or writhe if that was the best he could do, but his body wouldn't listen - no, his body betrayed him. He was but a soul dwelling in a hollow uninhabited shell, and nothing he said or did would ever follow what he believed was true. No, this body probably wasn't even his own to begin with, for he was only born and crafted to achieve one thing in life: to perish.

_Enough._

He jolted and woke with a start, snapping his eyes open to soft morning light with birds chirping cheerily away outside the window. It only took several moments for his nightmare to dissolve into faint echoes and faded imagery, but he knew the truth, the truth of the life he was given. This wasn't a dreamscape; all he'd ever experienced and the memories he had yet to create - everything was a living nightmare, and there was no way to escape it.

He rubbed his eyes and fell out of bed with a groan, and even more so as he walked into the door, cursing. It was obvious that today would be another hassle for him, and it didn't help at all as he came face to face with a mass of green hair.

"Good morning, Kacchan," the other said merrily, beaming at him with fervent warmth as he reached up to smooth out a kink in Katsuki's hair.

Katsuki closed his eyes and muttered incoherently, marching past Izuku as he made a beeline for the bathroom. The loud slam of the door was uncalled for, and made Izuku jump, but Katsuki could still hear the gentle smile in his words as he talked to him from the other side.

"I'll make you extra chicken," he called. "With extra chili."

"No one eats spicy chicken in the morning, dumb shit," he called back, banging his fist on the side of the shower. He appreciated Izuku's sentiment, he really did, but his partner's cooking was satisfactory at best, and he didn't know how to react to it at the best of times, either.

Izuku only laughed in response, his voice and footsteps fading away as he made his way to the kitchen. "But you do, Kacchan."

"Fuck you," Katsuki yelled, palms pulsing with mini sparks of flame. He hated Izuku, he really did. At least that’s what he told himself repeatedly on a daily basis. But what he hated even more was that he understood him like the back of his hand, and saw through him like glass. Izuku was both his salvation and his demise, and he hated it more than anything else.

He found himself tangled in deep thought as he munched on his chicken (Izuku's chicken that was hardly crunchy), fixating his food with a glare as fragments of his nightmare came rushing back to him like waves, as if reminding him he shouldn't be enjoying the little moments in life that he could share with Izuku.

"Kacchan?", Izuku asked softly, leaning slightly forwards as he inspected his features.

Katsuki blinked and turned away instinctively. His partner always had the ability to identify his weaknesses quickly and effortlessly; he knew it was pointless to hide his feelings from him, but that was all Katsuki knew how to act upon. Deflect and evade.

Sensing his reluctance, Izuku straightened and busied himself with his tea, stirring absentmindedly. "The...the nightmares. They're coming back, aren't they?"

Katsuki winced and scrunched up his eyebrows. Izuku managed to read him like a book once again, and he was both frustrated and relieved at the same time. He'd never talked openly about his sleepless nights with Izuku, but observant as he was, he saw past everything, and he knew. Of course Izuku was worried and wanted to help him, and Katsuki couldn't do anything about the moping mess.

"I...yeah," he muttered, clucking his tongue as his tone faltered. "They've been coming back lately, and they're the same each time. I can handle it." It was evidently a lie, and the dark circles under his eyes confirmed it all. He'd been tossed around like useless baggage during most of his so-called rest, and the images had been haunting him since day one, and had only worsened night after night. Katsuki didn't want to lie to Izuku, he couldn't, and this was the closest to the truth that he would ever dream of sharing.

Izuku fixated his gaze on him once again; the intensity was scalding, enough to tear away his skin, his facade, but decided not to address it. Izuku smiled faintly and placed his hand over Katsuki's clenched one, squeezing his knuckles lightly in reassurance; reassurance to both Katsuki as well as himself. "You're strong, Kacchan. You'll get through this just fine. I'm here for you, you know that, right?"

Katsuki swallowed audibly, shutting his eyes briefly as the icy claws from his nightmares threatened to resurface and take over. He nodded as it was the best he could do, and struggled to maintain his composure. He wanted to relieve the weight from his chest and crush it with his own power but his efforts would be in vain. It was too strong, and Katsuki was too weak. There was no way he could ever pass his burden on to Izuku, especially not when his burden was so great, and much heavier than his own.

And at the end of the day, it wasn't Katsuki's place to tell him; he wasn't in the position to reveal the truth to him. Izuku was his close friend and partner and they shared the same goals and the same visions, but they would never stand on the same platform; they were never equal since the very beginning. Katsuki understood this since his early years, even before Izuku was granted the most powerful quirk. With aspiration comes power, and with power, sacrifice. Such was the fate of a Child Of Misfortune. He would never be able to reveal the secret to him, the ugly truth that was so easy to say and yet the words always caught in his throat: he was destined to die.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little slow but the pace'll pick up in the next chapter!

Routine. Out of many things that Katsuki despised, routine ranked in the topmost positions. He thought it to be boring, systematic, unrealistic and impractical, and it went against everything he believed to be true and progressive. He hated routine, and increasingly so with each second as he waited outside the conference room for Izuku to return.

He’d always suspected and eventually learned that Izuku was "the chosen one"; he was All Might's chosen one, the special gem he had embedded his sights upon. It had taken Katsuki a decade to realize and accept the reality that was bestowed in front of them both, and he now understood the importance behind their responsibilities and All Might's concerns, but there was still one thing he couldn't accept: lies. He couldn't accept it for neither Izuku nor himself. To make matters worse, it was Katsuki himself who decided to hide the truth from him. Izuku had the hero's association’s full support, and it felt like a stubborn mountain blocked his path and fate. He was weak and useless against the prying eyes and constant threats, and there was no way to prevent Izuku from his fulfilling his destiny, a destiny that Izuku chose for himself, and one that Katsuki couldn’t avoid.

A cheerful voice grew louder with every heartbeat and Katsuki backed away from the wall, bracing and steadying himself for both Izuku and All Might, but mainly the latter. The door swung open and their gazes locked at once, silent yet calculating. Izuku, sensing the tension between them, gently pushed Katsuki towards the end of the corridor, a worried frown donning his features.

"You're gonna have to tell him some day, my boy," All Might said lowly, catching Katsuki off guard as he scowled in return.

He knew deep down that this was necessary, that the truth needed to reveal itself someday, but Izuku wasn't ready to hear it — no, Katsuki wasn't ready to tell him yet, and he probably never would be. Unfortunately it was still a “kill or be killed” situation, and Katsuki always ended up begrudgingly admitting that he would much rather tell Izuku the truth himself. "It's none of your business, All Might," he replied, gritting his teeth as he let Izuku drag him to the building’s exit.

The hero's only response was a sigh, a sigh that was weighted with the same worries that Katsuki had heard multiple times before. All Might was disappointed in him, but not as much as Katsuki was disappointed at himself. He tried to convince himself that none of this was his fault, he really did, but he would only break down into a sobbing mess each time. There had also been times when Katsuki thought it would probably be best to succumb to the controlling voices in his mind and disappear from the world altogether, but Izuku's smile always brought him back to his senses. He reminded him that life was worth living, that every moment was to be cherished and valued, regardless of how painful it may be.

"You've been doing that a lot lately, Kacchan," Izuku spoke up, eyes flickering and settling on everything but him.

"Doing what?"

Izuku sighed, shutting his eyes briefly. "Quarreling with All Might," he said. "Or with yourself, it's hard to tell sometimes."

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?", Katsuki asked, scrunching up his nose. His childhood friend wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, but often yielded minimal results from his incoherent rambling. He had more than just an inkling about what issue Izuku was referring to, but he needed time to think, to veer away from the sensitive topic he wanted to avoid.

Izuku slowed down to a stop, his face shadowed. Katsuki followed in suit, wary of what might be running through his mind. He regarded liars with contempt and didn’t want any suspicions to demolish the delicate bond they had woven so carefully together over the years that led on to this very point, but Katsuki was the one who cleaved this rift between them, too caught up in his own doubts and insecurities to notice the damage he’d been dealing. One wrong step would allow either of them to trip and plunge into Katsuki’s well-hidden turmoil, a bottomless chasm full of heartache and anguish of words he’d never said.

"Kacchan...," Izuku began quietly, turning away from him. His eyes were downcast whilst he fidgeted, as if his words clung to his throat with discomfort and unease. "I...I won't ask what it is you won't tell me. I won't try to pry it out from you, either. But...I hope you'll tell me someday."

It was a simple and gentle request but Katsuki gulped, flinching at his partner's statement. Of course Izuku knew, he had always been a natural at reading people's tangled emotions and concealed thoughts, but he saw through Katsuki like no walls existed between them at all. His partner didn’t just read him like a book; he’d memorized the work from back to front and with every curve in the lettering. It unsettled him to no end, and now was no exception. He clenched his fists tightly and schooled his expression before meeting Izuku with a leveled stare. "Good."

A dumbfounded look met his, and Izuku spread his palms in bewilderment. Katsuki continued walking, and Izuku bounded up behind him, exasperated. "But Kacchan!", he cried. "Why won't you tell me?"

"God fucking damn it, Deku," Katsuki groaned, rolling his eyes as the other tagged along helplessly. "It's nothing, and you'll never get it out of me if you keep whining like that."

Izuku pouted in response, and Katsuki looked away. It was that signature pout of his again, the one pout Izuku only pulled when he was around Katsuki. His partner probably wasn't even aware of it, but he knew that meant trouble. Izuku would only think of more ways to ease the stubborn truth out of the stubborn Katsuki, most likely in ways he wouldn't even notice, even if he searched and composed himself carefully for them.

"Mommy, mommy, look at that brother's eyes!" A shocked voice sounded beside them, and they both turned to see a small child pointing at Katsuki.

"That's rude, honey. Let's keep walking," the mother said hastily, not sparing a second glance towards their direction as she quickly led her child away, almost sprinting as they turned a corner.

Katsuki swung his head the other way and cursed faintly, rummaging through his trouser pockets before fishing out a pair of colored contact lenses. He was embarrassed at being caught out, by a child, no less, and let guilt and annoyance take over him.

Izuku approached his side in an instant and placed a hand gently on his right shoulder. His touches always scorched Katsuki like a brilliant brand of flame, and perhaps he was a masochist for secretly appreciating the constant gestures, but they were warm nonetheless, and felt like home. He had prioritized his own pride over Izuku's concern by rejecting his sympathy and telling himself he didn't need it, but he couldn't think of anyone else who would stand by his side as diligently as Izuku always did.

"It's not your fault, Kacchan," his partner said firmly, gaze fixated on the road ahead. "They don't understand you, and it's not your fault."

His words were intended to comfort Katsuki, but he felt his annoyance increase by a tenfold. _You don’t understand me either,_ he thought. He wanted to spill it all out, to tell Izuku everything, of both his own burden and its effect on his partner, but now was not the time. And for all he knew, the time may never present itself. This weight was his own to carry, and Katsuki needed to grow stronger to accommodate it — for them both.

Katsuki despised it when people jumped to conclusions without a second thought, but despised it more on how the mother's suspicions were correct. It didn't take a genius to tell that the mother was afraid and distrustful of him. Red eyes were as much of a rare sight as a curse in the present world, and it wouldn’t take more than several guesses to confirm one’s identity as a Child Of Misfortune. The mother was right, of course, and that’s precisely what infuriated him. He never asked for any of this; he didn’t want to become a symbol of hostility and imbalance. He was helpless.

For Izuku was right too; people misunderstood Katsuki and they only knew fragments of what it meant to be a Child Of Misfortune. The truth hurt, but what was undeniably painful for him was how _Izuku_ didn't know the whole truth about the fate digging relentlessly into his shoulders; he didn't know the truth about Katsuki, his salvation and his demise. And thus he decided it was time to stop lying to Izuku, and to stop lying to himself. He counted down the years until Izuku would inevitably become a top hero, and counted down the months they had left training with one another. He marked off the days on his calendar as time slipped away slowly and painfully. He smiled, beautifully and bitterly so, as he clenched his jaw, feeling the hourglass sand slide through his fingers as he was torn away, clinging on desperately to the little moments he had left to spend with Izuku.


	3. Chapter 3

"Alright, boys. That's enough for today," All Might's voice boomed across the training ground. Both boys reared back from one another, readjusting their clothes as they faced the hero.

Tuesday was Katsuki's favorite day of the week. Despite pushing himself to train vigorously every day during the week, Tuesdays were the days in which Katsuki had the chance to sharpen his skills against Izuku. He could feel himself getting stronger and stronger every week, and it filled him with just as much pride to see Izuku pushing himself to his own limit as well. Both of them needed to maintain their physique and techniques, or so Katsuki told himself.

"But I want to keep going, All Might," Izuku whined, panting as he rubbed a hand over his cheek. It was muddy from their fight, and he only made it worse as the mark spread.

All Might walked over and placed his hands on their shoulders respectively. "Enough is enough, young Midoriya. You both need to rest. Pushing yourself and pushing yourself past the limit are two different mentalities."

Katsuki said nothing, grabbing his water bottle and downing it all in one go. He exhaled heavily, shaking the sweat off his hair as he shrugged off All Might's hand, facing Izuku again. "Are you done?"

The latter grinned widely, resuming his battle stance. "Of course not."

Katsuki didn't seem like the type of person to get tangled up in his thoughts, but Izuku begged to differ, and was probably the only person to know of the emotional turmoil that resided in the back of Katsuki's mind. He could always tell when something was bugging him, although coming face to face with him and discussing it was separate matter entirely. Katsuki had somehow rejected Izuku's concerns each time by reflex and default, and they were both too stubborn and dense to admit their true feelings for one another. They believed that they understood each other like the back of their hands, but the situation was vastly different to what they both assumed to be true. Katsuki was constantly lost in the depths of his own worries, and the blizzard was too thick for Izuku to see through it, to reach out to him and save him.

There was a storm brewing in Katsuki's mind right in that point of time; it fueled the extra power in each of his windup motions, and his frustration turned into erratic punches as their fight ensued. It was normal for him to act on his impulses, but it was a rare sight to see him so lost in his own storm, blundering desperately as he tried to escape. Izuku knew immediately that something was weighing on his mind, heavy as a mountain, but was clueless on how he was to approach the raging storm, wild and unpredictable.

"Kacchan," he called to him, blocking and deflecting each of his partner's moves. He did so with unexpected ease, and it frustrated Katsuki even further and he gritted his teeth, charging at him once again.

"Don't talk whilst we're fighting," he hissed. He had dropped his guard for the second time and allowed a wide opening for Izuku to grab his arm, and he was flung heavily to the floor with a resounding thump. All Might casted one last glance over his shoulder before sighing, shutting the doors behind him as he left.

Izuku dropped down onto Katsuki, his knee digging into his stomach as he planted a hand on top of his torso, steadying him. "What's on your mind, Kacchan? It's not like you to get so preoccupied," he said. "Especially during a fight."

"That was no fight," Katsuki spat, wheezing as he struggled under Izuku's hold. "It's like fighting a sheep."

"Yeah, and this sheep just won," Izuku said calmly. There was no trace of humor in his tone as he met the former's furious gaze. "Please tell me what's on your mind."

Katsuki scrunched up his eyebrows and glared at Izuku before turning his head away from him. "I'm fucking fine."

Izuku sighed softly and detached himself from Katsuki, plopping himself to sit down next to him. The latter didn't move from the position Izuku left him in, and only fixated his gaze on the ceiling with both arms splayed flat on the ground.

"You're not getting an answer from me," Katsuki rasped, chest still heaving from their duel. It was no doubt that he'd been taken by surprise yet again, but Izuku was growing stronger every day now, and as much as he was jealous of his rapid growth, he was equally proud of his progress.

Katsuki’s response alone was more than a simple retort, and Izuku leaned back on his shoulders and stretched his legs. "That's alright, Kacchan. I would like to know if...," he trailed off, cocking his head. "I'd like to know if it was about me."

"Fuck, you're even more conceited than I thought you to be!" Katsuki turned to Izuku, spreading his hands in disbelief. "If I had a problem with you, I'd say it, fuckface."

Izuku grimaced at his partner and shot skeptical look towards him. "You'll have to tell me eventually, Kacchan. It won't be long until become the next Glen, afterall." He unfolded his legs, raising to squat as he glanced down at Katsuki. "There'll be nothing to hide from me when the time comes."

"Like there's anything to hide from your grimy ass, Deku," Katsuki growled. He immediately choked on his own spit, turning scarlet as he realized what he'd just said. "I mean. There's no way you're ever finding out like that."

Izuku let out a burst of laughter. It was music to the ears, and Katsuki wanted to dig a hole and bury himself right then and there.

There was a moment of silence where their ragged breaths evened out and aligned with one other's, and Izuku smiled to himself. "You know," he began. "All Might never did tell me. About you, I mean. The whispers behind your back, the frequent utterances of 'Ill Omen' and such. I never did understand where it all came from, and...I'd like to hear that from you."

The sympathetic glance from Izuku was more than enough to set Katsuki's blood on fire, and the gentle tone of his words only served to fan the flames. He knew he wasn't pitying him, that he was only thirsty for reconciliation and understanding, but Katsuki couldn't help but feel burning hatred and rejection at his partner's choice of words. It was enough that he received glares and fearful glances from people he didn't even know, but it was much worse to be interrogated by the only person he could confide in, the only person open and close to him. It scorched him, and there was no way to extinguish it on his own. The weight on his shoulders had been engulfing him for years, and Izuku's curiosity only added extra fuel to the mix, faster than ever before.

"It's all bullshit," Katsuki responded. He mentally slapped himself for the feeble retort, a lie so clear and weak that would be embarrassing even for a child, but there was nothing one could really do but save themselves from the last patch of skin that hadn't been scalded. He wanted to believe it, of course he did. He wanted to believe that he still had a chance of survival, to save himself, to break free from the chains that tied him down. But Izuku wouldn't buy it; he was determined to figure him out from top to bottom, regardless of what it took. His kindness was Katsuki's reason to thrive, and his hunger was the catalyst for his final breath.

Izuku said nothing and kept his gaze on him, unwavering. Katsuki groaned inwardly. His partner's determination was an avalanche, and Katsuki could run away if he wanted to. He chose to be crushed by it instead.

"It's exactly what it fucking sounds like, Deku. I'm...I spread Ill Omen, as they say. I'm the harbinger of great destruction." Katsuki clenched his jaw and stood up, dusting his trousers as he made his way slowly for the door. "You'd...you'd better fucking run away."

Katsuki was the one who ran. He barged past the doors, away from Izuku's piercing eyes, away from his own burden. The more he ran, the more he stumbled, and the chains that wrapped around him grew tighter with every heartbeat. They acted as anchors for him, reminding him of his origin, his purpose, his existence. For he could feel his body deteriorating, his strength leaving him with every breath as time marched relentlessly onwards. As much as he was getting stronger and more confident with his each and every move, the illness that resided deep inside him only came shooting for the surface, digging through his facade like thin ice. There was no way Katsuki could escape it; it was useless to fight against his fate, to craft an ideal future with himself. He watched on with an idle look in his eyes, for the only thing he could do now was to hope. His sneered bitterly at himself and glared at his gnarled reflection in the mirror. He was crumbling from the pressure against the cracks in what was left in his fragile soul, and there was nothing he could do but wait for his inevitable end.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it ^_^ Feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Tumblr: ukiinas  
> Twitter: Fenneltail


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